No Place Like Military Camp
by shanaysauras
Summary: Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel have their own ways of how they got into military camp and why they did them. When they're all put into the same pod, they all agree that Graystone Academy sucks. With the mutual feeling of getting the heck out of there, they hatch various plans to escape. Will they escape? Most importantly, who will fall in love while doing so?


**Me: Happy 236th B-**

**Dylan: OHH SAYY CAN YOU SEEE!**

**Me: *cough* Happy 23-**

**Dylan: BY THE DAWN'S EARLLYYY LIGHT!**

**Me: HAPPY 236TH BIRTH-**

**Dylan: WHAT SO PROUDLY WE HAIL'D AT THE TWILIGHT'S LASSTT GLEAMING!**

**Me: HAPP-**

**Dylan: WHOSE BROAD STRIPES AND BRIGHT STARS!**

**Me: HAPPY 236TH BIRTHDAY AMERICA!**

**Dylan: THRO' THE PERILOUS FIGHT! O'ER THE RAMPARTS WE WATCH'D, WERE SO GALLANTLY STREAMING?**

**Me: Gosh dangit, Dylan! SHUT THE HECK UP SO THE READERS COULD READ THE DANG STORY!**

**Dylan: ...*whispers* And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there...**

* * *

_**Gazzy POV**_

Silently, a smirking Iggy Griffiths and Gazzy Campbell crept towards the double doors of the boys' locker room. Gazzy peeked out the small window on the right door. Students were out on the gym floor, preparing for a regular ordinary dodge ball game. Gazzy reported what was happening so far to Iggy who was unfortunately blind. Both Iggy and Gazzy rubbed their hands together like an evil villain, mischievous and devilish grins on their faces.

"How many balls are there?" Iggy asked, snickering slightly. He muttered to himself, "That's what she said." Gazzy, who was only ten, gave his partner in crime a wasted puzzled look. Deciding to ignore that last part, Gazzy answered that there were twenty dodge balls and the game was about to start. Coach Anderson was barking at his students to line up.

"We fixed them right that they would explode on contact?"

"Yeah."

"Ohh, this will be exciting."

Gazzy nodded, but then remembered and said, "Dude, I can not _wait_."

The Gasman peeked through the window again just in time for Coach to blow the whistle, starting the game.

One of the guys, fast as lightning, lunged for the dodge ball in the middle and launched it at a helpless nerd. The nerd ducked and the ball was sent flying towards a girl's face. As soon it touched her face, the dodge ball exploded and green goo (Don't ask what it is or what it's made of. You don't want to know.) splattered all over her. Almost like a chain reaction, each dodge ball exploded one by one and by the time the fifteenth ball exploded, everyone was green as a troll's booger.

Gazzy explained all of this to Iggy with difficulty because of his laughter. He described how one guy was glued to the wall by the goo and he was so green, he was practically invisible amongst the goo. Everyone in the gym had their mouths agape and their bodies dripping with green while Iggy and Gazzy were crackling in the locker room, literally rolling on the floor and pounding their fists.

But their joyous and hilarious moment was interrupted when the locker room doors slammed open and a furious Principal Olson appeared. He was panting like he just ran a marathon and veins were popping everywhere on his body. _Is that smoke coming out of his ears? _Gazzy thought.

"Boys," Principal Olson growled, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Iggy glanced at Gazzy- well, at least in his general direction. "Run?"

"Run."

_**Angel POV **_

Nine year old Angel Campbell slowly crawled towards the principal's office. Her black clothes blended in perfectly with the walls. Her classmates had questioned her why she was wearing that outfit; one even asked if she was in some secret play about a ninja in training.

When she heard footsteps, she quickly drew up her face guard and pressed her small body against the wall. Angel let out a breath when the teacher passed by her without noticing. Finally reaching the principal's office and making sure the coast was clear, Angel peered around the door frame and saw Principal Olson looking through a file cabinet. Angel knew that was where all student files were kept. Suddenly, sounds of explosions came from the school gym.

Principal Olson looked up, his face full of puzzlement and confusion. He quickly shut the file cabinet, locked it, and threw the key into his drawer. Just as he stood up, the school secretary burst into the room, breathing hard.

"What happened?" the principal asked.

"Dodge balls. Explosions. Green goo," the secretary gasped, bent over with her hands on her knees. The puzzlement on Principal Olson's face contorted into anger and growled two names: "Iggy and Gazzy."

Angel quickly drew back and pressed herself against the wall as her principal ran past her with the secretary trying to keep up. After making sure no one was around, Angel launched herself into the room and closed the door. She bolted towards the drawer and rummaged through it. It took her about five minutes to find the key which was under a large stack of papers.

It took her several tries to open the file cabinet with the key for her hands were shaking badly. Angel never done this kind of thing before; usually, she let her brother handle these types of things. But since Gazzy was in charge of making the distraction, it was up to Angel to find out about their parents.

Finally, she managed to open the cabinet. Angel quickly looked through the C area and found a folder labeled, "Campbell." When she made sure it was hers and her brother's file, Angel grabbed it out the cabinet. She opened it and her brain immediately turned fuzzy with all the information.

_Maybe Iggy and Gazzy could figure this out_, Angel thought. She closed the cabinet, threw the key back into the drawer, and was about to stand up when suddenly, the door slammed open to show a very angry principal holding Iggy and Gazzy by the ear. Principal Olson's eyes landed on the folder Angel had in her hands. At first, fear flashed across his eyes, but it quickly vanished as fast as it came. Fury blazed in his eyes instead.

Angel met her brother's gaze and knew they were in _big_ trouble. Slowly, Angel raised her eyes to her principal's blazing ones. Angel gulped and slowly closed the folder in her hands.

"Oh, hello there Mr. Olson," the little girl gave a small desperate smile.

The principal didn't answer. Instead, he threw- _literally_- Iggy and Gazzy into the room and slammed the door behind him.

_Oh, boy._

_**Nudge POV**_

"You worthless nigger! I told you to get the dishes done before I got home!"

"I know, I'm sorry! I just had to finish homework an-and-"

"No excuses! Tomorrow, you're in charge of cleaning the entire house before I get home from the trip to Oregon tomorrow! If the house isn't clean by then, you will be big trouble, you worthless girl! Now go clean the dishes!"

Nudge Harrison's cheek exploded with pain as her "mother" backhanded her. Her so-called mom stormed upstairs, slamming her bedroom door close. Nudge slid down the wall, holding her hand to her blazing cheek, on the verge of tears.

Why did she have to live this horrible life? Why did her "mother" treat her like this? No mom shouldn't do this to her daughter. Even if the daughter is adopted. Nudge's mom wasn't always like this though. Michelle Smith used to be a sweet and caring mom.

Before Hank Smith, her husband, left.

Taking a deep breath, the fourteen year old girl stood up and walked towards the kitchen. The kitchen table had piles of dirty dishes that had already started to stink. The table cloth was stained with juice, meatloaf, and some other substance she couldn't identify. Nudge sighed. Her adopted siblings were total slobs and totally racist against her. Especially the oldest, Michael.

And speak of the devil, said sibling walked into the house from the back door. He was laughing and had one of his many slutty girlfriends hanging on his arm. His recently bought jeans had holes in them and his leather jacket was torn. His girlfriend had on a skirt so high, if she merely bent her knees, her underwear would show… if she had any. She wore her tank-top dangerously low.

Immediately, the two people started playing tonsil-hockey against the kitchen counter. Nudge was about to throw up in her mouth when they started groping each other.

Trying to ignore them, Nudge scooped up a pile of dirty dishes. The plates clattered slightly, interrupting Michael and his girlfriend's make-out session. Both of them glared at Nudge.

"What the heck are you doing?" Michael asked.

"What are you doing so late?" Nudge countered.

"That's none of your business."

"Then what I'm doing is none of _your_ business."

The stupid slut whispered something in Michael's ear and both of them started chuckling. Nudge rolled her eyes and stacked two more plates to the pile in her hand. "You do know that mom would kill you if she found out that you were this late and how you brought one of your many slutty girlfriends home again, right?"

Michael glared at his adopted sibling; a warning that if she told, Michael won't hesitate to beat the living crap out of her.

"C'mon, lets go to your room," the girlfriend purred, slowly sliding her hand under Michael's shirt. Nudge wished someone would just shoot her now.

"Well, even if she did find out, she won't be as mad about you breaking her precious plates," Michael said.

"I never broke her plates."

When Michael walked past Nudge, he purposely bumped into her, making Nudge lose balance. Desperately, Nudge tried to regain her balance and managed to drop the plates into the sink. She turned around to smirk at Michael, but he was already gone with his girlfriend.

Nudge dropped her head to her hands. Nudge hated this life. She wanted to escape and be free of this slavery-like life. But even if Nudge did run away, where would she go? She didn't have any money; Michelle usually paid for her clothes and food. Nudge just wanted to know who her real parents were so she could possible run away to them.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nudge saw a computer in the corner. Nudge remembered how Michelle spent most of her time on the computer when she was rarely home. Maybe the computer held the information about her parents!

Nudge quietly and quickly walked towards the computer and sat down on the chair. Nudge booted it up and clicked on the start button. She led the mouse to click on documents and saw six files: Michelle Smith, Hank Smith, Michael Smith, Jamie Smith, Jake Smith, and Nudge Harrison.

Immediately, Nudge clicked on the file with her name on it. It asked for a pass code. Nudge cursed under her breath. She typed in her birthday. Incorrect. The numbers that would spell out her name. Incorrect. The day Nudge was adopted. The computer told her to try again.

Nudge closed her eyes and tried to remember any information about her. Unconsciously, her fingers slowly moved to the _M_. Then the _O_. They moved to the _N_._ I_. _Q_. _U_. And finally, the _E_.

_Monique._

The file opened and tons of information appeared. Nudge's mouth dropped onto the floor. She never knew Michelle kept this much information about her. Not knowing where to start, Nudge randomly clicked on a document that showed her adoption papers. Before she could start reading, a voice growled behind her.

"Monique, _what the heck are you doing?_"

_**Fang POV**_

Fang Coopers bent his knees and sprang off the ground. His hands gripped a tree branch and Fang swung himself onto it. Without a second thought, he jumped onto a high branch then to higher one, and so on until he was nearly at the top of the tree. He took the apple out of his mouth and watched as the owner of the shop ran under him.

The seventeen year old boy couldn't help but grin a little. This was what, the twentieth time that Fang managed to steal some food from the same shop? Fang lay back on the branch and subconsciously ate the ten apples he stole.

Don't give him that look. He wouldn't have to steal food if his stupid thirty-two year old drug addict mom would just feed him the three meals he deserved. But did he get that? No. His fridge was completely empty and his "mom" didn't bother to do grocery shopping. He could've done it himself, but whenever he asked for money to do so, she would always start beating him.

His mom was rich; had her own company. Lauren Cooper could've been pretty, if she weren't drunk all the time. Whenever she was at work, she was sober and professional. But when she was at home? If was as if the sober Lauren Cooper never existed. And to be honest, she was a whore. Every month, she would bring a new guy home.

It completely disgusted Fang.

After finishing his last apple, Fang jumped to the ground like a monkey. He landed in a crouching position on the ground, slightly startling people and a couple of pigeons. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he strolled across the park he was in. Annoyingly, his stomach growled like a dying whale. He sighed. Fang could never get enough calories these days.

"YOU!"

Not daring to look back and waste time, Fang bolted down the street.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU THIEF!" the shop owner shouted. No one even watch the two. New Yorkers have seen a lot stranger things.

Fang pumped his arms and turned a sharp right. A group of girls giggled and pointed at him when he ran past. Fang turned another right and his house loomed ahead.

It was a big white and blue two-story house with a large front and backyard. Fang jumped onto the large porch, opened the blue front door, and ran inside. He quickly shut the door and locked it. As soon as the door closed, Fang heard a toilet flush and a door opening upstairs.

Fang quickly masked him emotions and became completely impassive; one of his special traits. His mom came downstairs in her work uniform; a gray skirt and blouse. This meant she was sober. This surprised Fang, but he didn't let it show on his face.

Lauren opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when the door was knocked on harshly. Silently, Fang cursed. He thought he had lost that shop owner. His mom gave him a look and opened the door.

The shop owner, a large and pudgy man with a pedophile mustache, stood on the porch, panting and his face flush with anger and exhaustion.

"Your son," he panted, pointing at Fang, "stole food from my store. Again."

"You must be mistaken," Lauren said. Her voice was gently but yet icy at the same time. "It must've been another boy."

"What other boy has that hair cut and wears entirely black everyday?"

"Emo and gothic boys," Fang offered. He kept his face void of all emotions.

His mom turned around and glared furiously at him. Lauren turned back to the shop owner and handed him a fifty dollar bill. "Take this and never mention this to the police." And with that, Fang's mom slammed the door shut and whirled around, his arms crossed. "Have something to say, Nick?"

Fang only glared at her. Nick was his real and hated name. The son and mother glared at each other. Silence filled the house like a flood. Breaking the silence, Lauren sighed.

"I'm going to Oregon for the summer," she said.

Fang didn't say anything. But in the inside, he was silently shouting in happiness.

"It's for a business trip."

Again, Fang didn't say anything.

"I'm also sending you to military camp."

_**Max POV**_

_This is so freaking _boring_, _Maximum Ride thought. She was currently in fourth period, history and Mr. Crowell was boring her to death. _Please let this torture end soon._

Max looked out the window on her right to see snobby jocks out in the field showing off to snobby girls at this snobby school. She looked to her left to see other snobby students actually _paying attention_. They sat upright and watching the teacher like a leopard ready to catch their prey.

Max hated them.

And the teachers.

_And_ their stupid snobby school.

Max's heavy eyelids slowly drifted closed and her head fell to her desk. _I'll just rest my eyes just for a bit…_

"MAXINE MARTINEZ!"

"Twenty-four!" Max said as she jolted awake. She glanced at the clock which told her that there was only five minutes of class left. When Max "rested her eyes", there was twenty minutes left! Gulping, Max looked at her teacher innocently. "Yes, Mr. Crowell?"

His gaze felt like it was piercing into Max and raping her soul. "You were asleep," he growled.

Mr. Crowell weren't as easy to trick like the other teachers. He was strict and knew every single of Max's moves. Well, _some_ of them. Sighing, Max knew there was no way out.

"Yes, teacher dearest. I _was_ asleep. Why, you ask? Because your stupid lectures on the Declaration of Independence would've put George Washington himself to sleep."

Anger blazed in the history teacher's eyes. "It's not like you know when the Declaration of Independence was signed."

Max straightened her back and said confidently, "It was signed on July 4th 18-" Max paused. Crap, she didn't know the year. Not wanting to give her teacher the satisfaction she said again, "The Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4th 18…15?"

There was dead silence in the classroom at first then:

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"What a dumb blonde!"

"She is so stupid! Even my five year old sister knows the year!"

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Maximum Ride clenched her hands under the desk. She started to count to ten in her head. _1...2…3…4…_ bullcrap! This isn't working! Max clenched her teeth and glared at her desk.

Mr. Crowell pointed his ruler at her and said, "At the end of this ruler is an idiot."

The class burst out laughing again, but Max stayed surprisingly calm. She glared up at her teacher, "Which end?"

Fury and embarrassment filled the teacher's face. He slammed his hands on Max's desk and leaned dangerously close to her. "Listen here, missy. You got big mouth right there. And you know where people with big mouths go? Lunch detention."

Max have had many lunch detentions. In fact, Max actually enjoyed them. She was one of the very few troublemakers in this school so lunch detention was usually quiet and had much solitude. But Max had gone a new record of days without lunch detentions: two whole days. That's a big deal for her, but now that Mr. Crowell had ruined the new record she did best to make…well, Max was furious.

Anger boiled inside of Maximum Ride. Without a second thought, Max raised her clenched-so-much-that-it-turned-extremely-white fist, and punched her teacher right in the nose, snapping his stupid spectacles.

Mr. Crowell jerked back and clenched his now bleeding nose as the entire class gasped.

This satisfied Max more than can you ever think.

"TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. NOW!" The teacher shouted. Just then, the bell rang signaling second lunch.

"I thought you said I had to go to lunch detention," Max said innocently. Mr. Crowell glared a prissy glare.

"Principal's office. _NOW!_" he growled.

Shrugging her shoulders, Max gathered her things and was out the door in an instant. _Frick the principal's office. I'm going home._

Max raced down the hallway, ignoring stares and whispers. She just wanted to leave this stupid school. If this school caught on fire and Max had the only water source to save it, she would dump the water into a river.

"Max is such a wimpy priss. Who hits a teacher just because he called them an idiot and runs off?"

Max stopped in her tracks. No one, and she meant _no one_ calls her a wimp and priss and gets away with it. Very slowly, she turned around and faced the owner of the voice. "Call me that again and Mr. Crowell won't be the only one getting a broken nose."

Jack Maymor, the guy who called Max a priss, only smirked at her. "I'd like to see you try."

"Wrong answer." Max lunged at him and punched him in the nose. She heard a sickening yet satisfying _crack_. She kicked him in the gut and grabbed his left arm. She swung him around and smashed Jack into the wall of lockers. Not letting go of his arm, Max lifted him and swung him over her shoulder.

Jack crashed onto the ground, groaning. Max faked a step forward and Jack flinched and whimpered. Loud gasps rippled through the crowed that surrounded the two of them.

A teacher broke through the throng of students and nearly passed out at the sight of Jack. She did a double take between Jack and Max, putting two and two together. Mrs. Lyre rushed to the student on the ground and told Max fiercely to head to the principal's office. Just then, Max's mom voice boomed from the announcer.

"MAXIMUM MARTINEZ RIDE! GET YOUR BUTT HERE TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE!"

* * *

**Dylan: O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?**

**Me: Help. Me.**

**Dylan: Hey, I'm showing America some respect here by singing their song!**

**Me: Your singing does harm to America rather than showing respect. If you want to show respect, jump off a cliff.**

**Audience: Oh, burn.**

**Dylan: *hmph* *continues humming National Anthem***

**Anyways, shanaysauras here! Hey guys, so what do you think of the story so far? I know this chapter sucks and the comebacks are really lame. It's just that I don't cuss and I suck at writing in third person; this and the 2nd chapter would be written in third person and it's just going to be introductions. But please tell me anyways whether you like it or not so far! I love feedback; good or bad.**

**If you guys want snippets of upcoming chapters, possible future stories I might work on, excuses/reasons why I haven't updated so long, etc. follow me on (stupid fanfiction won't let me put the link): shanaynaysauras, period, tumblr, period, com. It is my fanfiction and personal blog C: If you tell me who you are, I'll follow you too **

**So please review and tell what you think!**

**Shanaysaura in and out. Over**

**Dylan: Bye!**

**Me: Shush!**

**Me: And please review!**

**P.S: I hope no one was offended while reading this chapter! It's all for show! I'm not racist, promise you. The only race I hate is Dylan. **

**Dylan: Doesn't that mean you hate Max and the rest?**

**Me: No, I just hate _you_.**

**P.P.S: In order for me to continue this story, I'mma need at least six reviews :I I don't want to write a story where no one bothers to read it.**


End file.
